


Truly

by Zen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cursed Object, First Time, Fuck Or Die, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 11:57:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1070203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zen/pseuds/Zen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically a PWP in which I deal with the cursed object trope, the fuck or die trope, Dean Winchester's self worth issues, and the love and devotion of Castiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truly

**Author's Note:**

> This was written specifically for Fan_Eunice, one of my most treasured friends on this earth. I adore her, and wish I could write a new Dean/Cas story for her every day of the week.
> 
> The beta Goddess Elynross was kind enough to work her magic on this story, and as always, her brilliance has made it so much better. I feel like when Elynross does a beta for me, she earns a co-author title. I was literally yelling and cheering out loud while I reading over her beta fixes and suggestions. I will never be able to thank her enough for her generosity with the her time, her hard work, and her genius.

At first the two things seemed completely unrelated. 

For the past week, Dean hadn’t been able to keep his hands off his dick. He’d been horny _all the time_ , and no matter how many times he jerked off, how many random women he hooked up with, it didn’t get better. He didn’t remember it being this bad even when he was a teenager.

The other thing was this cold he couldn’t seem to kick, or maybe it was the flu. Instead of getting better, each day he was a little worse, a little more run down. You’d have thought that the sicker he got, the less horny he’d be, but no, his libido knew no bounds.

It was Sam who finally put two and two together. They were at the Sunset Motel in middle-of-nowhere Minnesota, and Dean was in the bathroom trying to jerk off for the third time that day without coughing up a lung, and it wasn’t easy. He had to be more gentle than usual because his dick was getting raw from all this attention, so it was taking a lot longer to get the job done. And then every time he got close to coming, his heavier breathing triggered a coughing fit. 

When he finally managed to get himself off, there was very little pleasure involved. Miserable, wrung out, and exhausted, he was so far off his game it was really starting to worry him. He braced an arm on the sink to hold himself up while he coughed up another chunk of phlegm, jumping when Sam pounded on the door.

“Quit jerkin’ off and get out here, Dean, I’ve figured it out,” Sam yelled.

Dean was so wiped out that he couldn’t even bother with a snappy comeback. He flopped down on the bed, which triggered more coughing. Sam had on one of his best bitch faces, with a side of smug.

“I knew this was excessive, even for you, and then there’s this virus you can’t seem to get over.” Sam turned his laptop around so Dean could see it from his spot on the bed. “Look familiar?”

Dean considered the statue of a plump, curvy woman with ridiculously large breasts. He thought it might look like one of the hundred artifacts that were in the house they did a poltergeist job in a couple of weeks ago, but that wasn’t what he said to Sam.

“I dunno, your next girlfriend?” It felt good to make Sam’s bitchface get even pissier.

“You don’t remember this from that poltergeist job we did in Ohio? You picked it up and wouldn’t stop rubbing the breasts and making dumb jokes.”

Dean remembered, and now he had a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Yeah, and?” He wiped his nose on the bedspread, too tired to get up and cross the room to grab a Kleenex.

“Dude, gross.” Sam shook his head, getting up and throwing the Kleenex box at Dean. “At the time, I thought it was a fertility idol.”

“Right, you told me to put it down before I got pregnant.” Dean chuckled, triggering more coughing.

“Yeah, well, it turns out I was wrong. It’s an idol of an old pagan goddess, so old it doesn't look like there's a record of her name, or if she even had one. It's cursed -- and by the way, you should know better than to be touching shit in a house where we’re working a job.”

Dean knew he was in bad shape because Sam actually managed to make him feel like an idiot. They’d both been in really good moods that night, jazzed to be doing a good old fashioned salt-and-burn job. He remembered how they’d joked around, trying to one up each other by making each other laugh. Figures this all started on that night; good things simply didn’t happen to the Winchesters.

Even though he was dreading the answer, he asked anyway, “So, what’s the curse?”

“Well,” Sam said, “as far as I can tell, she was a goddess of marriage, or commitment, or maybe women’s vengeance, something like that. And don’t roll your eyes, there’s not a lot to go on! Anyway, if the person who handles it might be considered, um. Unfaithful…” At Dean’s indignant look he hurried on. “Anyway, it looks like there is a cure.” 

“Great, what do I have to do?”

“Well.” Sam looked uncomfortable. “From the lore I’ve found, you need to be ‘truly loved’”. Sam actually used air quotes. “And before you ask, I’m pretty sure that means you have to make love with someone who truly loves you.”

“And if I don’t?” Dean thought he’d figured out the answer to that question for himself, but it didn't hurt to be sure.

“The virus kills you,” Sam said flatly.

Right on cue, another coughing fit kicked in, causing Sam’s sympathetic face to turn downright tragic.

“Then I’m dead.” Dean wheezed, thinking this was a piss poor way to die and wondering if maybe he could find a hunt and get himself killed in a blaze of glory before this cold could kill him.

Sam was across the room in three very determined steps, sitting next to Dean on the bed and rubbing circles on Dean’s back as Dean coughed up another piece of lung.

“No, you’re not, man. I’m never gonna let that happen, Dean. I know you’re going to raise holy hell and try to fight me on this one, but let’s face it, you couldn’t win a fight with a fourth grader right now.”

Sam got right up in his face, stubborn devotion shining in his eyes. “ _I_ love you, Dean. Probably more than anyone on this earth ever has. I can do this, and no offense, you can’t stop me.”

Dean pulled back, jumping off the bed, and was halfway to the door before he started coughing so hard he dropped to the floor. Between coughs he managed to find the breath to tell Sam, “No. Fucking. Way.”

Sam shook his head and was halfway to Dean when the familiar flutter of wings filled the dingy motel room. Castiel appeared behind Sam and put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him dead in his tracks.

“No, Sam.” Dean had possibly never been happier to see Cas, and see that he was on Dean’s side. But then Cas spoke, and Dean’s world went sideways again. “I will take care of this.”

Cas was talking to Sam, but he was staring at Dean with a look on his face that Dean had only seen once or twice before and had never been able to identify. “Perhaps you could get another room at this establishment?”

Dean watched the relief wash over his brother’s face, who looked like he couldn’t get out of there fast enough. But Sam stopped with his hand on the door and eyed Cas hesitantly.

“But, Cas... you understand the curse? I mean.” Sam stumbled on his words, and Dean knew the question Sam was trying not to ask.

Dean’s heart sank, the phrase ‘truly loved’ running around in his head. Cas had become his friend, and he’d pulled Dean out of hell, but Dean sincerely doubted that Cas loved him deeply enough. Hell, Dean doubted whether anyone, besides Sam, _could_ love him. He knew he could be charming as hell when he needed to be, but lovable? Yeah, not so much.

Cas’s voice pulled Dean out of his spiral of self doubt.

“Do not worry, Sam, I am absolutely capable of undoing this curse.” Dean looked up in time to see Cas’s face turn soft. He slowly helped Dean to his feet, voice going as soft as the expression on his face. “I love you, Dean, in more ways and on more levels than I thought I would ever be capable of.”

“Right. Great. Okay, so, I’m gonna go, see if they have another room they’ll let me have, probably not right next door, unless that’s all they have, but, yeah. Another room,” Sam babbled as he quickly gathered his laptop and his duffel bag. “I’ll, uh, see you guys tomorrow.” He only tripped once over his own feet on the way out the door.

Dean had never experienced so many emotions at once, and he was pretty sure he didn't want any of them. Yes, he was eternally grateful that he wouldn’t have to deal with Sam trying to fuck him, but the rest of it? Cas’s declaration of love? Dean just wanted to forget it; he didn't know what to do with it. A voice in the back of his head was telling him that nothing good could come from this, and then there was the freakout he was trying not to have, because no matter how adventurous his sex life had been (very damned adventurous, for the record), Dean Winchester DID NOT take it up the ass.

In true Winchester fashion, he stamped down all those thoughts and feelings and started walking to the bed. “Right, let’s get this over with.”

“No, Dean, it’s not that simple.” Cas had followed him, taking Dean’s arm in a firm grip and turning him around, and Cas’s complete disregard for personal space had them standing so close that Dean could feel his breath when Cas spoke. “I’m not sure what you think this curse is about, but it’s not _just_ sex. That’s what got you into this.”

“Yeah, I know, I need to be ‘truly loved’.” Saying it out loud made Dean wince, and he could hear the sneer in his voice. “But do we really have to talk about it? Can’t we just….”

Dean’s words, and thoughts, stilled when Castiel’s hand lifted from Dean’s arm to his face. The sensation of Cas’s thumb slowly stroking his cheek was so sweet and intimate, and so unexpected, it demanded all of his attention, as if his entire existence had been reduced to that one touch.

“You need to believe it, Dean; you need to _accept it_. Otherwise the curse will remain intact.” Cas spoke to him in a hushed, deep tone, causing Dean to lean in even closer. “It isn’t about my loving you; it’s about you needing to _accept_ that I love you, that _you are worth loving_ ”. 

“That’s not,” Dean’s voice was hoarse, and he coughed and sniffled before he could finish his sentence. “Sam didn’t say anything about that.”

“Yes, well, please trust that I know what I’m talking about.”

Cas continued to touch him, his face, his neck, his _ear_ , and Dean’s tireless libedo was all for it. The ear stroking in particular brought up goosebumps all over his back and arms. Cas pulled Dean in tight against him, strong arm wrapping around Dean’s back, holding him up as much as holding him close. It felt good, to let Cas hold him, as if the weight of his own body was a burden. He was exhausted, and horny, and at the end of his rope. It was terrifying, what Cas was saying, more than any demon, ghost, or monster could ever be.

“It’s all right, Dean.” Cas whispered, practically purring as he leaned in, their foreheads touching. “I know we’ve had some difficult times between us in the past, but that’s where they stay, in the past.” 

Then Castiel kissed him, a warm, dry press of lips against Dean’s. 

“We share a profound bond, Dean, but what I feel for you goes far beyond that. In fact, I know you so deeply that I know my words alone could never convince you, could never make you understand.”

As he spoke, Cas slowly, gently moved Dean the short distance to the bed. Everything took on a very dream-like quality, and Dean felt as if he were floating more than shuffling his steps along with Cas. He let Cas guide him to sit on the edge of the bed, barely having enough sense left to wipe his runny nose with a Kleenex from the box that Sam had thrown at him earlier. 

Cas dropped to his knees and carefully took off Dean’s boots, and then his socks, as Dean just stared at him, dumbfounded. When he finished, Cas looked up, eyes bright and unguarded, a shy smile on his face.

“It will be my extreme pleasure to convince you with my actions rather than words. I want nothing more than to show you how precious you are to me.”

“Jesus, Cas.” Dean tentatively reached his hand out to run through Cas’s hair. Castiel leaned his head into Dean’s hand, his eyes falling shut. Causing such a telling reaction from an angel, _his_ angel, made Dean ache. “I have no idea what to do with all this.”

His voice was rough, partly from his cold, but mostly from all the lust and fear and _need_ suddenly rushing through him. Maybe if he’d been one hundred percent he’d have been able to put up some sort of defense, make a joke or something, but he wasn’t. He was a physical wreck, and possibly the most emotionally vulnerable he’d ever been. Considering his situation, he realized that this might be a good thing, even if it did make him want to run as far and fast as he could.

Cas’s hair was soft and thick between his fingers. When Cas opened his eyes they locked on Dean’s, warm and blue and full of so much more than Dean had ever seen there before. At least he wasn’t the only who was vulnerable here. Cas rose slowly, never taking his eyes from Dean’s.

“Just believe me, that’s all you have to do.” His hand curled around Dean’s shoulders as he gently pushed Dean to lie back on the bed.

Dean let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a gasp, a sound full of awe and disbelief.

“You make it sound so easy, Cas.”

“Well,” Castiel was gently maneuvering them to the head of the bed as he considered his words. “I have no experience to draw on, but I would imagine that being loved and treasured, as I do you, is a very basic and wonderful thing.”

Dean was about to argue that it was actually the exact opposite, but then Cas leaned down and kissed him. The warm, hesitant press of lips against his was possibly the sweetest thing that Dean had ever felt. His words of protest melted away as Cas grew more confident. As the kisses continued, still hesitant, but each one longer and more passionate than the next, Dean wrapped his arms around Cas’s back and let himself get lost in the sensations. Cas’s back felt warm and solid. Gentle hands stroked his chest, neck, and jaw as the slightest hint of a taste of Castiel slipped onto Dean’s tongue. Instantly, Dean parted his lips, his tongue reaching out to taste more of Cas, licking his way into his angel’s mouth. 

Cas’s groan almost had Dean coming in his pants. The state of his magically amped up libido had him wanting to flip Cas over, rip off all of their clothes, and just _take_ him.

Cas must have sensed the shift, the urgency that was rushing through Dean, because suddenly Dean was feeling skin against skin. He kissed his way across Cas’s rough jaw and looked down to see that they were both naked.

“Way to work the angel mojo,” Dean chuckled in between bites and kisses across Cas’s neck.

“Yes, well,” Castiel’s voice was even deeper and rougher than usual. “I saw no point in stopping these amazing sensations to remove clothes.”

He gasped when Dean sucked on the side of his neck, but then added, “But, the clothes definitely needed to go.”

Cas's skin was velvety soft and so very warm against him, and Dean couldn't stop touching it. In return, Cas was methodically covering every inch of Dean's skin with warm, wet kisses. At the curve of Dean's shoulder he paused to groan around an open-mouthed kiss on the juncture of the muscle and bone. As he kissed his way down Dean's arm, Dean felt Cas's other hand slowly sliding down his chest and stomach. As Cas paused again to suck on the pulse point of Dean's wrist, his hand continued to slide down Dean's body, and then firmly wrap around Dean's aching cock.

"Oh fuck yes!" Dean bucked up into Cas's fist.

After only a few strokes, Dean's orgasm hit him hard and fast, and just as it had been since the curse kicked in, there was very little actual relief. What was different this time, though, was the comfort of Cas's hand stroking through his hair.

"You are so beautiful, Dean." Cas's deep, rough voice was full of more emotion than Dean was used to hearing.

Dean opened his eyes, about to protest being called beautiful, but the expression on Castiel's face stopped him. Cas's eyes were open wide, completely focused on Dean. His small smile grew as Dean looked at him, and there was no denying the love and awe written all over Cas's face. It started to sink in then, why Cas was here. Not just here in bed with him, but here on this earth, here in Dean's life. One of the first things Cas ever said to him ran through Dean's mind: "I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition."

Cas's smile grew even bigger, and his hand slid from Dean's hair down to his shoulder, slipping into place over the scar he'd left on Dean's arm. A jolt of sensations like he'd never felt before rushed through him, making Dean think that this must be what a shot of pure love would feel like.

"You in my head, Cas?" Dean laughed, amazed by how happy he felt.

Cas positively beamed at him, "As often as possible, Dean."

For once in his life, Dean ignored his self doubt and disbelief. He was too busy trying to get as close to Castiel as humanly possible, and then even closer. He clung tightly to Cas, sucked and nibbled on his throat, the taste making his head spin. Dean had never hated this curse more than when he had to stop everything because he was wracked by another coughing fit. But then he was moving, Cas gripping him under the arms and sitting him up against the headboard. He must have used his angel mojo to arrange the pillows, because as Dean leaned back they were there waiting for him.

Dean had always been kind of fascinated by Cas's hands. Considering he had Cas's handprint burned into his skin, he figured, who could blame him? Those hands could clean Cas's clothes with one simple wave, but they could also transport Dean through time and space, only to comically fumble with the buttons on a cell phone. Dean had seen them smite their enemies, but also heal people, himself included. Now, Dean was experiencing them in a totally new way. 

Cas started at the top of Dean's head, and was methodically stroking and caressing his way down Dean's body. Each touch felt deliberate, full of meaning and purpose, and the look on Castiel's face was one of absolute devotion, and each touch made Dean believe in ways that words never could. He could feel Cas's love, see it written all over Cas's face. It rocked him to his very core, and without thinking, he reached out a shaky hand to return the gesture, holding Cas's jaw and softly rubbing his thumb along Cas's cheekbone.

"Dean." Cas breathed the word out as he eyes fell shut.

Dean felt his heart swell and warmth rush through his body. He smiled, then laughed with amazement at how cliche it all seemed.

"Me too, Cas. Me, too."

He meant it. Dean realized that his affection for Cas had been growing for a long time, realized he truly loved Cas. His habit of mostly ignoring his emotions, denying them, pushing them away, was one of his best defense mechanisms, but in this case Dean thought that maybe they'd been working against him. If getting to have Cas like this, this close and this _real_ , meant he had to get all sappy and profess his love, it was totally worth it.

With that thought, Dean felt better. His snot dried up, his lungs cleared, and all of his aches and pains faded away. Of course, his dick was still hard, but that was all about what Cas's touches were doing to him and no longer about the curse. For the first time, Dean really looked at Cas, took in the full glory of a naked Castiel. Cas was gorgeous, all sleek lines and tight muscles stretched under pale, perfect skin. Cas's hands were stroking up and down Dean's arms, but then they slid all the way down, and Cas interlaced their fingers. Holding hands with Cas just made Dean smile more.

"It's lifted, you're healed." Cas gave a small nod to Dean and returned the smile.

"Yeah, and you're fucking gorgeous, Cas. I had no idea all this was hiding under your holy tax accountant uniform." Dean felt downright giddy. "You saved me. Again."

"If I have my way, Dean, I will _always_ save you." Cas gave his hands a squeeze, and then let go.

Dean took full advantage of not being cursed anymore, pushed himself up and away from the headboard, and gently tackled Castiel. Cas went willingly, with a smile, and his arms wrapped around Dean's back as his legs fell open to accommodate Dean. He knew he shouldn't be surprised by how perfectly they fit together, but he was. He took his time kissing Cas, slowly letting it build and getting a good long taste of him. When he finally released Cas's mouth, they just stared at each other for while, Cas's hands stroking up and down Dean's back, Dean propped up on his elbows with his hands carding through Castiel's thick hair.

"This is incredible," Cas finally broke the silence. "But I don't understand. I thought that once the curse was broken you would no longer want...."

Dean took a moment to enjoy Cas at a loss for words, but then he told him, "This _is_ incredible, Cas, so why the hell would I want to stop? In case you didn't understand me, I love you, too, you moron. Look, we're both in uncharted territory here. Let's just figure it out as we go, okay?"

Cas's smile was almost blinding as he nodded up at Dean.

"That sounds like an excellent plan, Dean."

They figured it out throughout the night, as over and over they explored how deeply their profound bond went, and then some. Dean had no idea how it would play out in the days, months, and years to come, but he promised both himself and Castiel that they would work it out together. In this one extremely important part of his life, Dean swore he would never again hide from his feelings, and when he told Cas this, Castiel asked him if then maybe the curse had turned into a blessing.

“I don’t know what a blessing feels like,” Dean admitted.

Cas kissed him again, gently, on each cheek, then on his mouth. “It feels just like this.”

The End


End file.
